


Stars in Their Eyes

by TheBiFromUNCLE



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Actor!Jim, Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Bottom Jim, First Time, Love Confessions, M/M, Top Spock, director!Spock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:20:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27423364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBiFromUNCLE/pseuds/TheBiFromUNCLE
Summary: Spock is an acclaimed yet reclusive director. Jim is his leading man. They have worked together on several films and are renowned in the industry for their teamwork. When Spock gives his first in-depth interview (and Jim is interviewed as part of the profile) more is revealed than intended. On the morning the interview hits the stands, Jim tries to make things right.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 9
Kudos: 175





	Stars in Their Eyes

Nyota calls him early, but of course Spock is already awake. No matter how she tries, Spock is always up first, dressed and immaculate. He sits at the kitchen counter, his breakfast and the magazine spread before him. He could have read it online but Nyota couriered over a physical copy. The pages are glossy and thick. Humans like having things they can keep.

“Have you read it yet?”. Nyota is not video calling him, which is unusual.

“I was just about to. Have you?”

“It’s good” Nyota says, answering the question he didn’t ask. “You come across good”.

“But?”

“I didn’t say “but”.

I-Chaya snuffles around Spock’s feet, searching for his own breakfast. Spock drops his hand and absently pets his head. He waits.

“It’s probably nothing”, she says finally. “Things spoken aloud come across differently in print. It’s nothing.”

“ _ What  _ is nothing?”. Vulcans do not get frustrated but Nyota has never been anything less than forthright with him and her evasion is disquieting. 

“Call me when you’ve read it. If you want. Or-” Nyota cuts herself off. “I think it’s a really good profile, Spock”.

She hangs up and Spock is left staring at himself on a magazine cover. His mother would say it's a good picture of him. In his youth, Spock would have feigned ignorance, perhaps claimed that a captured image is objective and thus accurate. However, with his chosen career, he can no longer deny that some images are better, more beautiful than others.

He reads quickly.

Then he reads it again, slowly.

Jim has always said that he became an actor because he never knows what to say. A typically self-deprecating thing to say, and Spock has always seen the lie of it.

“It’s easy to charm people”, Jim had said when Spock questioned him on it. “It’s the same as following a script. The interviewer sets you up and you just keep going until you’ve said what they want to hear and they smile at you. And then you repeat it five hundred times until the junket is over. I don’t know how to say anything real, anything worthwhile”.

Spock hadn’t known how to explain that he hadn’t meant press interviews. He had been referring to the eloquence and intelligence Jim had displayed when they were alone. In trailers, in hotels rooms, in video chats with millions of miles between them. During these conversations Jim’s face was sleepy and relaxed. Often he wore his glasses, with thick black frames. Spock had wanted to tell Jim how worthwhile these conversations were, how much he valued his insight, his perspective. He had wanted to tell Jim how much he cherished the times he would take a red pen to Spock’s scripts, making them leaner, sharper, incisive and beautiful. More than once he had tried to offer Jim a writing credit and he had always refused, demurely but firmly.

Spock had wanted to tell Jim that his words were more than worthwhile, they were precious.

Now, he traces his finger over Jim’s words. The words Jim said about him. When he closes his eyes to sleep, these words will be printed on his eyelids.

When his comm buzzes, Spock knows before he looks that it’s Jim. Jim also has a preference for video calls but has neglected to use this function.

“Good morning Jim”, Spock says. Unable to see the reactions play across Jim’s face, Spock has no idea if his voice is betraying him. Jim has a beautifully expressive face. The smallest twitch of a lip or lift of an eyebrow is utterly revealing. It makes him a dream to film and a terrible poker player.

“You’ve read it”, Jim says shortly.

“Yes”.

“That reporter was so full of shit, I knew they would do something like this”, he continues. “I told you it was a bad idea, I begged Nyota. I knew they wouldn’t get what they wanted from you so they’d go digging and try to make it all-”.

There’s a pause and all Spock can hear is the huffing of Jim’s breath. He’s out walking somewhere.

“-Salacious”, he finishes.

“You were trying to protect me”, Spock agrees placidly.

“What was all that ‘lays bare his beating heart’ bullshit? Sounds like a goddamn romance novel. God, it, it makes me sound like I hate Nyota and-”

"Like you are in love with me”. 

There is another pause and Spock considers filling the silence with a reminder of Jim’s own predilection for romance novels.

“Are you at home?”

“I am”.

“I’ll be there in a few- I’ll be there in thirty minutes”. Jim hangs up before Spock can thank him for correcting himself and offering an estimation. It will be inaccurate, but Spock wants Jim to know that he notices.

Spock stands and I-Chaya snuffles happily, knowing that at last he is about to be fed. Spock pours some extra feed into the bowl as a reward for his patience. He then makes coffee and considers the implications of Jim being in love with him.

Spock has known for some time that his regard for Jim is un-Vulcan. However, the further he has progressed in his career, the more he has realised that there are truly an infinite number of ways to “be” Vulcan. If his dual heritage helped shape his style as an artist, how could he regret it? After so many years of torment, he finally feels like he is no longer at war with himself, but in harmony.

And he knows he would not have found that peace without Jim.

Spock retrieves the magazine and opens it again, to the page describing Jim’s exploits as a playboy. His eyebrow rises in derision as it did the first time he read the paragraph. Friendships mistaken for dalliances, opportunistic photographs angled to catch uncharitable interpretations.

Spock wonders now, if he would have been so passive in his attachment to Jim if these conquests had been real. If Jim had truly led an endless parade of rivals, if Spock hadn’t been so sure of his attention and time. Would he have acted? Made some attempt to claim Jim for his own? 

Spock shuts his eyes, taken aback by this jealous nature he apparently possesses, gone unprovoked for so long. He has been careless, careless with something precious and-

_ Kaiidth. _

His previous inaction is of no consequence. Jim will be here soon.

Jim, in fact, arrives within thirty-eight minute of him ending their call. He is flushed when Spock answers the door, a sweaty sheen on his skin. Spock wonders if his tshirt is sticking to his back, beneath the black leather jacket.

I-Chaya barrels at Jim, delighted at the return of his favourite playmate. He retreats to his bed in a huff when Jim only offers a distracted petting instead of getting on the floor to wrestle as usual. Sehlats are proud creatures.

“Hi”, Jim says, and Spock knows that something has changed between them. Not broken, not yet, but too much has been revealed and what they once had is irretrievable. Spock is surprised to find himself grieving this loss, despite how badly he wants this new and unfamiliar thing before them.

Spock stands aside and allows Jim into his apartment. He stands stiffly. Spock has seen him like this before. Too many mistakes or forgotten lines and Jim starts to lose confidence in himself. When they first began working together, Spock would try to let it run its course, do as many takes as necessary to get it right. He now knows that early intervention is more efficient, rather than allowing Jim to ruminate upon his mistakes. 

“I was flattered by what I read in the profile. You spoke very highly of me”.

Jim’s eyes widen, like a schoolboy expecting punishment and being offered a confection instead.

“You’re welcome”.

Spock inclines his head and moves towards Jim.

“There is no opinion I value more highly than yours. You must know this”. Spock deliberately neglects the inflection that would turn this into a question. He is insisting. He will make Jim understand.

“I guess so”, Jim replies slowly, cautiously.

“I regret, then, that I have not made you certain. Forgive me”.

Jim is silent, as guarded as when they first met. It makes Spock ache.

_ Your film was pretty good. You can tell it’s your first but I liked it. _

“I’m the one who should be sorry Spock. I was trying to protect you and I ended up being the one-”. Jim ran a hand through his hair. “Now they’re gonna be hounding you and I never wanted that, I know how important your privacy is to you”.

The way Jim’s eyes shift from blankly impenetrable to desperate and wounded is beautiful to watch and Spock wishes he has a camera to hand.

"Then we have both made errors and can now be considered 'even'.

Spock has been close to Jim before. They have sat shoulder-to-shoulder in shuttles, shot in confined spaces. Spock has even touched him on occasion, positioning him just so, indicating the motion he wants to capture. In those moments of proximity, he was never aware of his pulse the way he is now. Jim looks ready to argue and Spock won't give him the chance. 

"Jim, I have taken your time, your attention and your friendship for granted. I have operated under the assumption that they would always be available to me, unfettered, without consideration for your own emotional needs. Please allow me to correct this most erroneous behaviour". 

Jim's brow furrows in confusion. 

"You're one of my best friends, Spock. You've never taken advantage of me. 

There had been times when Spock had been frightened by his own emotions. The depth and fire of his anger had shocked him in his youth. He had understood the need for control, why Vulcans could not allow themselves to be ruled by their emotions as humans did. 

Now, he stands before Jim and he has never known fear like this. He feels weak in his limbs. And curiously, strangely, wonderfully, he feels courage too. Jim has always made space for his humour, his failures, his boldest ideas. What he feels for Jim, it has made him brave. 

To falter now would be to fail them both.

“Jim,  _ taluhk nash-veh k'dular.  _ Jim, I love you”. 

Spock knows that Jim would have understood the Vulcan declaration but he offers himself in Standard anyway. He wants to meet Jim, as Jim has met him so many times.

A laugh escapes Jim and he casts his eyes away, shaking his head.

“No”.

“Yes”

Spock takes a final step towards Jim and slowly, carefully touches his face, guiding his gaze back to him. His fingertips are just barely grazing skin, but he can feel the crackling of electricity, the spark that makes the blood and muscle and bone standing before him into  _ Jim.  _ Spock longs to slide his fingers into position and find Jim’s psi-points. He wants to push the emotion into Jim’s mind,  _ make  _ him feel how loved he is.

But more than that, he wants Jim to take him at his word and trust him. He wants Jim to trust that he loved, to place his faith blindly in Spock. And Spock wants to never give him cause to regret it.

“Spock”. Jim’s lips part so softly around his name. Spock feels himself tremble with the urge to claim them for his own but he waits. As a child, he once caught a butterfly, cupping it between his hands. It’s frantic wingbeats tickled his palm, until finally it settled. When Spock opened his hands, it perched on his finger and he was able to admire its iridescent wings.

He strokes his thumb across Jim’s cheek, a gesture he knows to be soothing to humans. He dips his head slowly, leaving Jim adequate time to withdraw. 

They both have their eyes open the first time they kiss.

It is a sweet pressing of lips and Spock’s fingertip touches become palms against Jim’s face as his eyes slide shut. Jim’s mouth opens and he presses into Spock with his entire body. His hands squeeze Spock’s shoulders and the grip would border on pain were Spock not stronger and so eager for his touch. Spock was built to receive everything that Jim is and has.

Jim is so warm against him and Spock wants more, finds himself pushing the heavy leather jacket from Jim’s shoulders and twisting his hands in the thin white t-shirt beneath. Jim drags his mouth across Spock's cheek, down the line of his jaw before hooking his chin over Spock's shoulder. 

"Fuck", he says, breathlessly. Spock splays his hands across Jim's back, holding him close and feeling each breath he takes. 

"Fucking damn it Spock, what you do to me. I never wanted anyone to be able to do that. But you got in". 

"I was also somewhat disquieted to realise how dependent on you I had become". 

Jim laughs but it doesn't sound right to Spock's ears. His breath is damp against Spock's collarbones when he tucks his face into his chest. 

They break apart when I-Chaya, sensing the apparent distress, bumps his head against their legs. 

"Oh buddy! We're ok, we're fine!", Jim exclaims, dropping to his knees and ruffling I-Chaya's thick fur. 

“I-Chaya, come”, Spock commands, attempting to usher him from the room. The creature seems unconvinced that Spock will not cause further upset.

“Go on, good boy”, Jim says, with one final pat of encouragement. 

“You’re just jealous that he likes me better”, he says when Spock returns from sequestering him in the bathroom.

“I-Chaya has been my companion since early childhood. Often he was my only companion”, Spock says. “Of course I am jealous”.

It pleases him to see Jim snort with laughter. His eyes are still glossy but his breathing has calmed considerably. They stand before each other and this time Jim bridges the gap. He pulls himself flush against Spock’s chest as he kisses him, deep and lush. He hums his enjoyment into Spock’s mouth and the sound and the vibration causes Spock to relax his control, allowing arousal to wash through his body. Slowly, Jim rolls his hips and Spock realises he is experiencing a similar reaction.

“Do you want-?”, Jim murmurs against his lips.

“Yes”.

Jim’s hips roll again, the movement sharper this time.

“What do you-? How do you want to do this?”. 

Spock wants to kiss Jim’s neck and feel his pulse beneath his lips, so he does so, buying himself time to think. When Jim was unavailable to him in this context, sexuality as a means of relating to others was not something he pursued. Now, within the last hour, a world of possibilities and experiences has been opened to him.

“As you have the benefit of experience, I will defer to your judgement”. He can taste Jim’s skin as he speaks.

Jim pulls back, hands on Spock shoulders, to meet his eyes.

“You’ve never been with anyone?”

“No”. 

Jim’s cock twitches within the confines of his jeans. Spock arches an eyebrow at what he has been led to believe is an atypical response. Jim flushes.

“Sorry, it’s just. Wow.” He kisses Spock’s cheek, light as butterfly wings against his face.

“It doesn’t have to be today, or right now. This is a lot, it’s-”

Spock kisses him, firmly. He is surprised at how much he finds himself enjoying the feeling of Jim’s tongue moving against his. He enjoys the startled noise Jim makes. He enjoys the way his hands flail, before sliding up into Spock’s hair. 

So many sensations to savour, how could Spock bear to stop here?

Jim smiles against his lips when Spock says, “I would like to have sex with you”.

“Ok. Ok”. 

His hands slip under the white t-shirt and he helps Jim to discard it. Jim backs away, to the bedroom, his smile bright and inviting. He wore a similar expression in a romantic comedy, early in his career. He had jumped into a pool fully-clothed and beseeched the female lead, an uptight Andorian to join him.

This is better.

Spock reaches for the hem of his plain, black henley, as Jim busies himself with his own jeans.

“Wait”, Jim says, looking up. “I want to”.

They join again and Jim tugs the shirt over Spock’s head. Then he runs his palms up and down Spock’s chest. It is not unpleasant, being the subject of such admiration. He returns the favour, fingers going to the fly of Jim’s jeans. He hesitates, feeling like he should do more, before settling on leaving his briefs alone in favour of pushing the jeans down. Jim kicks them away and guides Spock’s hand to his bulge. It is hot through the fabric. Jim shivers when Spock looks up, into his eyes.

“I’ll show you what to do. I’ll show you everything”.

They divest of the remainder of their clothes and Spock reclines on the bed as Jim instructs him.

“You’ll tell me if you don’t like anything”. He arranges pillows behind Spock’s head so that he is sitting up, slightly. “Anything feels bad, or uncomfortable, too much”. 

Jim is on his bed. Jim is kneeling over him, naked, on his bed. Jim is frowning at him sternly.

“I will communicate my discomfort, should it occur”, Spock agrees verbally.

Jim smiles and kisses him. Simultaneously, he swings his leg over and seats himself in Spock’s lap. He sits up and strokes his own cock loosely. 

"You're big". 

Jim's member is more slender than his own. Spock finds himself intrigued by the external testicles. 

"You can touch me if you want. Yeah. Yeah like that, that's good". 

Jim spits in his palm and begins to stroke Spock. The motion is similar to the way Spock has touched himself, yet utterly different. They fondle each other for a while and Jim starts to rock in his lap. 

"A little tighter." He squeezes Spock, demonstrating what he needs. He dips into Spock's mouth and Spock feels like he is being sampled, tasted. Jim's chest is flushed delightfully pink when he finally pushes away Spock's hand. 

"I don't want to come like this". 

Spock strokes his thighs, unable and unwilling to stop touching Jim. 

"Do you have any lube?" 

"In the top drawer." 

Jim quirks his eyebrow at the half empty tube of lubricant.

"Been busy have we?" he asks in a tone that Spock recognises as teasing. He also knows that it delights Jim when he is deadpan. 

"Masturbation is perfectly healthy, Jim. It is not a subject of shame". 

Jim stares at him before kissing him soundly and uncapping the tube. 

"Do you do this?" asks Jim, reaching slick fingers behind himself. "When you masturbate?" 

"I have……attempted. I found it uncomfortable."

"It can be tough, if you don't know what you're doing." Jim gasps, his brow furrowing. He winks. "If you don't have someone to help."

"Will you? Help me?" 

Jim groans and Spock wishes he could see what he was doing. Jim's chest is rising and falling heavily. 

"What you fucking do to me", he murmurs. "Told you, I'm going to show you everything." 

Spock shudders in anticipation of a promise fulfilled. The solid reality of Jim on top of him is at once dizzying and grounding. He focuses on the weight pinning him to the bed, the way Jim’s arm moves, the way his hand reaches to Spock for balance. He can no longer contain himself to just Jim's thighs and is petting and stroking him everywhere he can reach. He has seen Jim in various states of undress before, but this is different. There is intention, this is  _ for  _ Spock. As if to confirm this, he pinches Jim's nipple. Buoyed by the encouraging sounds this elicits, Spock grips Jim by the hips so as not to unseat him, and sits up. He laves his tongue across the other nipple, before sucking the nub into his mouth. Jim makes a tight fist in his hair and their cocks rub together pleasurably. 

“Oh God, ok I’m ready”, he groans, pushing at Spock’s shoulder. “You?”

“Yes.”

“I can’t believe this is real”, softly, almost to himself as he lubricates Spock. Then he lifts up on his knees.

“Hold yourself for a second, just at the base.” Jim’s hands are planted heavily on Spock’s chest as he positions himself. And then he bears down. Spock feels as though all of the oxygen is being forcibly expelled from his body as his cock is engulfed by Jim. Helpless to do anything else, he rubs gentle circles into Jim’s hips. The pressure is tighter than he imagined and he is concerned for Jim’s comfort. At the same time, he wishes that the sensation would never stop. His fears are unfounded it seems, as Jim grunts in satisfaction at having made it past the second ridge. He takes the rest of Spock smoothly and to the hilt.

“I’ve never felt so full in my life", he mutters. 

Jim sits up and rocks his hips experimentally and for the first time, Spock moans. The noise is like an autonomous creature escaping his chest. When he did masturbate, Spock kept his mouth clamped tightly shut. Now, he can no longer remember the reason. Thrilled, Jim repeats the motion.

“I always wondered what you’d sound like. Wanna hear every noise you make.”

Every movement Jim makes is captivating as he writhes on top of Spock. Being inside of him, his body hot and clenching around Spock is intoxicating. Spock wants to give Jim the same pleasure, he wants Jim to take him and to claim. They will mark each other and belong to each other utterly. 

Jim's thighs start to tremble as he rises and falls on Spock's cock and his chest is becoming slick with a shine of sweat. 

His mouth hangs open and red and inviting and Spock's wants to kiss him and wants Jim to take him in his mouth. Spock wants to live and die in that mouth. 

"Who knew you were such a sweet talker?" Jim's voice is strained. Spock hadn't realised he'd been speaking. He has no answer for Jim so he pulls him and his mouth down to his. The kiss is sloppy and to Spock it feels like the height of indulgence. He had never seen the appeal of getting messy before.

Inspired, Spock works his hand between them and takes Jim in hand. He strokes him, working precome over his length. 

"Ah, Spock fuck, I'm gonna-" and then Jim ejaculates over Spock's hand and stomach. His whole body tenses and shudders, his eyes fall closed, lashes dark against flushed cheeks. Spock runs his hands over his flanks as his breathing slows. He feels unbearably privileged to witness Jim like this. 

Jim shifts and moans softly. 

"Gimme a second, I'll finish you off, I just, I just need…" Jim's eyelids flutter. It's really quite attractive. The exertion suits him. 

"Jim, I would like to try-" Spock winds his arm tightly around Jim's slender waist and rolls them over. Jim looks beautiful against his pillows. 

"Yeah, oh god yeah we can try", Jim smiles breathlessly. "Just take your time- oh god Spock!" 

Spock thrusts forward, guided by instinct and lust and Jim's encouragement. Jim's hole parts deliciously around his cock. It is slick and welcoming as Spock pounds into him, both of them moaning in tandem. For the first time, Spock realises, he is enjoying having a body. His body is not merely a machine to maintain with nutrition, exercise and rest, it is a tool for pleasure. His and Jim's. He relishes every gasp, every drop of sweat. 

Spock presses his forehead into Jim's, he wants to press his mind into Jim's. With a connection this deep and vital on its own, the potential of what they could be like melded is star-shattering. 

The stars crack and shatter in Spock's chest as he orgasms, pouring into Jim. 

"Ashayam, I love you". 

Jim's arms wrap around him and hands stroke his back as their hearts slow together.

After, they lie side by side, quiet and clean and warm, kings of their own world. Beneath the covers, they are holding hands. 

"Bones is gonna kill us". 

"Indeed".

Jim cocks his head. 

"What? No comment about hyperbolic or figurative speech?"

"No, I believe Leonard will end our lives", Spock turns his head and brushes his lips against Jim's. "I am very distressed". 

Another lull passes before Jim asks the time. 

"Eight thirty-seven". 

"Shit is that all? It's so early."

"I was awake for several hours before you arrived". 

"Yeah me too". Jim rubs roughly at his face. "I was up all night walking around, I couldn't sleep thinking about the article."

He tenses and moves away from Spock's side. 

"You probably have things to do". 

"Yes, I intend to spend the next few hours sleeping beside you. Then I will feed you breakfast. And if we are both agreeable, you could penetrate me at some later part of the day". 

Jim's head hits the pillow heavily. 

"I've created a monster". 

Spock pulls him close, revelling in the ease of the touch. 

"I have been thoroughly corrupted". 

Jim begins to doze, but then lifts his head sharply. 

"Wait! I love you!" 

"I know, Jim", Spock replies, puzzled. 

"Yeah but I hadn't said it. I love you". 

"And I love you". 

**Author's Note:**

> My intention for this was to post the interview first, as a pre-slash standalone. And then I started writing the aftermath and had way more fun with it. If anyone is interested in reading the interview let me know and I'll try and finish it! Hope you enjoyed this and thanks for reading.


End file.
